Lost in Suburbia: Cross my legs and hope to die

Tracy Beckerman More Content Now

Wednesday

May 9, 2018 at 10:04 AMMay 9, 2018 at 10:04 AM

One morning, I had a big cup of coffee as I usually do, and then I got in the car and drove 40 minutes to a clothing store I had been curious to check out. I don’t normally drive 40 minutes to go shopping, but since I am a stay-at-home mom and everyone knows we stay-at-home moms just spend our time shopping and eating bonbons, I figured, “What the hey.”

Having had the aforementioned monster cup of coffee 40 minutes earlier, I naturally had to go to the bathroom the instant I arrived at the store.

“Please tell me you have a bathroom I can use before I start shopping,” I begged the salesgirl. She gave me a bored look.

“We don’t have a public restroom,” she said and went back to folding clothes.

For a while I tried to explain the merits of having a restroom for customers to use, but her eyes glazed over and I realized that a) she couldn’t care less, and b) if I didn’t stop arguing with her and actually get to a bathroom really soon, I would end up shopping for Depends.

“Well, where is the nearest bathroom,” I asked.

“There’s a coffee shop around the corner.”

Around the corner turned out to be two blocks away and by the time I arrived, I was about to blow. But when I tried the door to the restroom it was locked. I waited a respectful amount of time and then knocked. When no one answered, I figured there was either a deaf person in the restroom or it was one of those public bathrooms you need a key to get into. Five minutes later when the deaf person failed to emerge, I approached an employee.

“Do I need a key to get into the restroom,” I asked her.

“Yes. But the restroom is for patrons only.”

I gave her a blank stare.

“You need to buy something to use the restroom,” she shouted. Clearly she thought I was deaf, too.

“Are you serious?” I asked. I looked around. The place was empty. It wasn’t likely that I, a non-paying customer, was going to interfere with the restroom needs of any actual paying patrons.

“Are you going to buy something?” she asked me impatiently.

I shook my head. “If I buy a cup of coffee, then I will use your bathroom, go back to the store two blocks away, and in 10 minutes, I will have to come back and use your bathroom again,” I argued. “Then, you will make me buy another cup of coffee again, and I will use your bathroom again and then go back to the store and ten minutes later I will have to go to the bathroom again. Is this really what you want?”

“You have to buy something,” she said again.I was furious. I was indignant. But I was also desperate. “Fine!!! What’s the smallest thing you have?”

“You can get donut holes. A box of 10 is $1.59, 25 is $3.99, or 50 holes are $5.59.

“I meant small, as in amount, not small as in size,” I explained slowly.